Within the span of four hours today, I saw two hit and runs. We’re talking completely knocked off and dangling wing mirrors, scrapes on the assaulted vehicle, and the car just speeding off. Both times I could see the face of the fleeing driver, and I think I just expected more… fear. Maybe something like terrified remorse.

Believing the best about people is hard when it goes beyond a passive-aggressive line-cutting, or muddled ideas about who has the right of way. When intentionality is obvious, it’s hard to sympathize with humanity. You’re left thinking, Come on people—vandalism? Hit and runs? Recently someone (somehow) threw a decent-sized boulder in a Des Moines house rental property pool that a family member of mine rents out. You know, just to be nice and ruin the residents’ and the landlord’s week. I mean, what do people have to gain from pointless, random acts of badness?

So today, when I saw an elderly gentleman devote his time to cleaning graffiti off a sign, a spark of faith flickered in my heart again. I snapped some shots and just stood there mesmerized and smiling for a few minutes, watching him apply the appropriate cleaners, squint through the lenses of his wrap-around black cover ups, bend over to pick up a dropped rag as cars flew by on both sides of him. It was just nice to see someone actually step up and spread good, instead of the usual reactions, from which none of us are exempt: passing the blame, hating on others, leaving the responsibility to some abstract other—city services included.

Seeing this man clean off some graffiti on an Aurora Avenue side street absolutely made my day. Today I’m grateful for all the good in people and the world. And for exceptional humans like this one.

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